Ethiopia's little known relationship to Australia and Orthodoxy 25th January 2017
Ethiopia's little-known relationship to Australia
and to Orthodoxy
Ethiopia has a proud history of civilisation which dates back thousands
of years
Ethiopian
Orthodox Christian priests take part in a Palm Sunday mass. Photo: AAP via
AP/Kevin Frayer.
25 January 2017
THEO
THEOPHANOUS
Many Orthodox churches around the world celebrate
Christmas on 7 January rather than 25 December. It is a good time to reflect on
the plight on Orthodox communities around the world and their achievements.
One such community that is little talked about is
the Ethiopian Orthodox community.
Ethiopia has a proud history of civilisation which
dates back thousands of years. Christianity in the form of Coptic Orthodox was
declared the official religion in AD330 and is still the religion of two-thirds
of the population of around 90 million. Yet it is rarely talked about or
discussed either in Greece or in Australia.
When we were there we visited the famous rock-hewn
churches of Lalibela, constructed during the reign of King Gebre Mesqel
Lalibela in the late 12th century. These 11 churches were chiselled out of
solid rock and each stand as one monolithic piece of rock, if you can imagine
such a thing.
There were many Greek religious pilgrimages
organised from Greece to Ethiopia during this time and the relationship between
the Greek Orthodox Church and Ethiopian churches is long-standing.
Agios Georgios church,
created by carving downwards into the rock. Photo: Theo Theophanous.
Australia
too has had a long relationship with Ethiopia. Australian eucalyptus trees were
brought to Ethiopia in the 1890s by Emperor Menelik II to try to reforest areas
devastated by tree clearing, and today form large forests that provide timber
and prevent erosion. Australia has also had a significant foreign aid
commitment to Ethiopia and is a donor to maternal, neonatal and child health as
well as targeted education programs. The Hamlin Fistula Hospital and the Fred
Hollows Foundation, both set up by Australians, have had long relationships
with Ethiopia, delivering much-needed medical services.
When
we visited Ethiopia we were awestruck by the depth of their Orthodox faith and
the churches, but mostly we were amazed by the determination of people to do
something with their lives in the face of abject poverty.
One
of the photos you see is of a woman called Nyala. Several times a week Nyala
walks into the eucalypt forest on the outskirts of Addis Ababa and scavenges
the forest floor to gather branches and bark and wrap them into a giant bundle
that measures more than three metres wide and a metre thick.
Somehow
she loads it onto her back and walks the six to eight kilometres to the timber
merchant to sell it. Her small frame struggles with the weight and she must
stop every few hundred meters.
When
she arrives her load will be assessed and she will receive one to two dollars
for it. When we spoke to Nyala she was stopped by the side of the road resting
with her friend.
We
gave them $20 each, which was more than both would earn in a month, and we were
soon swamped by many other women and children wanting our help. We gave what we
could and the women could not stop thanking us. But in a land where 70 per cent
live below the poverty line of $2 a day and with four million orphans, the need
for help was simply overwhelming.
We
asked Nyala what she would do with the money and she explained that she had six
children and she wanted to try to get them educated. She was trying to get
enough to buy some exercise books and pencils for the start of the new year. It
reminded me of some of the early struggles of our own parents.
Women
like Nyala and her children benefit from Australian aid even as they struggle
to buy a few books and pencils. Other children in a variety of government and
NGO programs assisted by Australia also receive help.
But
how could I explain to Nyala that Australia would be cutting its foreign aid
contribution, which goes to programs that help people like her, by 40 per cent
to improve our budget bottom line, despite the fact that most Australians earn
in an hour what she earns in a month.
You
don't get what that means until you are confronted by people such as Nyala,
desperate, yet proud and hopeful, who need medical help and who want to try to
educate their children into a better future.
Ethiopia
suffered immensely in the 1970s and 1980s through famine and regional conflicts
and has been heavily reliant on foreign aid ever since. We could not help but
be moved by the depth of faith amid the poverty, and the intense desire to
educate their children and build a better future.
Ethiopian woman Nyala carries eucalyptus branches to sell for
firewood. Photo: Theo Theophanous.
If there is such a thing as a global morality, then
surely it dictates that we should help these people to improve their health and
education systems and build their economy. Australia, with its latest cuts to
foreign aid (which is now a third of the UN agreed target) will increasingly
not be among the countries helping with development or with aid programs.
Back in Melbourne, I order an Ethiopian coffee,
mindful of the fact that coffee is such a big export earner for Ethiopia. But I
cannot help thinking that what I pay for my cup of coffee is equivalent to
three back-breaking trips for Nyala.
Increasing foreign aid is not popular in Australia
today, which is why Julie Bishop was barely criticised for her failure to
defend against the savage cuts. But if there is one thing that we should press
politicians to do, it is to promise to increase our foreign aid to respectable
levels. This is not a question of politics or economics. This is a question of
morality and humanity.
As for us of Greek Orthodox faith, we would do well
to reach out to the Ethiopian Orthodox Community and to Ethiopia and offer our
help in whatever way we can.
* Theo Theophanous is a former minister and
political commentator.
Comments